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August 10, 2009

Beware of the Acid-Spitting, Lightning-Farting Mongolian Death Worm!

ULAN BATOR -- Mongolia sucks ass. It's a miserable place, even worse than Tuscaloosa. There's nothing much to do there, other than sit around in your yurt waiting for the five minutes of summer when your balls become unfrozen from the permafrost of the steppes. Then you ride your yak into the dazzling metropolis of Chuluunkhoroot and spend your hard earned Togrogs on a steaming plate of Khorkhog, which you wash down with fermented horse milk.

And as if Yahweh hadn't cursed this wretched land enough, here comes the dreaded "Allghoi Khorkhoi." Worse even than the widely feared "Popo Bawa" (the Tanzanian ass-raping bat demon), the Allghoi Khorkhoi is a killer acid-spitting worm that shoots lightning out of its poo-hole (and no, silly...it isn't Glenn Beck!). It's been frollicking about terrorizing the miserable denizens of the Gobi Desert for the longest time.

So now a retarded cryptozoologist (those are the folks who believe in Sasquatch and Nessie, Thin Baptists, Heterosexual Evangelists, Unicorns and Alabamans with Teeth, among other fanciful creatures of folklore) is venturing into the Gobi in the hopes of encountering this thing. He's a New Zealander by the name of David Farrier and he's trekking about with a payload of dynamite (because the charming critter is attracted to tremors).

There are several important points to be made here:

If your town is infested by acid-spitting, lightning farting mega-worms, that's a pretty good indication to move. We hear South Dakota's lovely this time of year.

If the creationists are right, and Yahweh created this enchanting creature, He must have been taking the LSD and listening to Quiet Riot. Or maybe He was crabby after everyone laughed at the aardvark and the platypus.

Why exactly would a person use explosives to elicit a flash mob of Allghoi Khorkhois? It sounds exceedingly unpleasant. We can't imagine enjoying ourselves at a convention of acid-barfing, lightning pooping worms.

Has this guy from NZ been doing his research by watching TNT. Doesn't anyone here remember the classic film, "Tremors" staring a post Flashdance Kevin Bacon? Why, it was Reba McEntire's first acting gig. Her husband in this wonderful B movie was Michael Gross, formally the dad on Family Ties.

These creatures were called, "graboids". Here is the link to the IMDB page: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0100814/

@rambo: yes, we recall "temors." it was fierce. but while the "tremors" worms simply gobbled sedans and people, this creature hops out of the earth, spits acid at you and shoots lightning bolts out of its rectum. That's just plain rude.

We're certain it seemed like a good idea at the time. But you look like you're attending the funeral of your sanity. See here's the thing. You're a trend-setter. Do you really want the entire world to start wearing their underoos as outerwear? Have you given the slightest thought to the potential ramifications? For starters, it would force us to cover our furniture in plastic. Is that what you really want?

Vesuvius) to a maximum security brassiere and they rebelled by erupting. The point being while fashion has never been about comfort, it shouldn't incinerate your fans in a pyroclastic flow. But no, we held our tongue. Because any gal whose boobs are wont to spew magma and embarks on a career as a disco diva (instead of, say, an X-man), has spunk in our book. Besides, any concert during which a performer zaps her frankenboobs to life is well worth the ticket price.

But now, Lay-Ga...now we're concerned for your mental health. How we wish we could have read your mind today when you stood before your vast wardrobe. We're more than a little curious about the thought process that caused you to strap a JC Penney's "naughty grandma" underwire bra over your Mary Poppins blouse, hike up a pair of crotchless satin Depends, and secure a Charo wig to your noggin with what appears to be the wrapper from a Hickory Farms "deepest sympathy" cheese and fruit basket.

blouse, hike up a pair of crotchless satin Depends, and secure a Charo wig to your noggin with what appears to be the wrapper from a Hickory Farms "deepest sympathy" cheese and fruit basket.

We're certain it seemed like a good idea at the time. But you look like you're attending the funeral of your sanity. See here's the thing. You're a trend-setter. Do you really want the entire world to start wearing their underoos as outerwear? Have you given the slightest thought to the potential ramifications? For starters, it would force us to cover our furniture in plastic. Is that what you really want?

You look like (pick one):

Morgan Fairchild in a very special Lifetime movie-of-the-week called "Not Without My Mom-jeans," the heart warming story of a woman who goes into mourning when The Gap discontinues their line of high-waisted acid wash stretch pants
The winning design from that episode of Project Runway where Heidi Klum gives the designers one day to stitch together a wardrobe for the soon-to-hit-the-toy-stores Bi-Polar Barbie
A publicity still from "I Was an Incontinent Space Widow," a daring independent film directed by Darren Aronofsky and starring Charlize Theron, which swept the awards at Sundance

So, what do you say we hop the next spaceship to Planet Claire and order a pitcher of Supernovatinis? Or we could just go to TGI Friday's and slam back some fuzzy navels...same diff, really. Doesn't that just sound marvy? We KNOW!

Listen. Here's the deal. You're a serious broad. And we've resisted writing this BNoFC because you're fully aware (indeed, you're the architect) of your craziocity. And anyone who ridicules your LSD-inspired wardrobe is woefully UNaware that the joke is on them. You are begging to be talked about. You frequently leave the house having remembered to bobby-pin a Judy Jetson wig to your noggin, yet somehow you always forget the pants. Beyond that, while we rather enjoyed the rumors that you serve your hair pie with a side of kielbasa, we also strongly suspect you were the one behind that particular meme. You are, as our Beantown friends might say, "wicked smaht."

blouse, hike up a pair of crotchless satin Depends, and secure a Charo wig to your noggin with what appears to be the wrapper from a Hickory Farms "deepest sympathy" cheese and fruit basket.

We're certain it seemed like a good idea at the time. But you look like you're attending the funeral of your sanity. See here's the thing. You're a trend-setter. Do you really want the entire world to start wearing their underoos as outerwear? Have you given the slightest thought to the potential ramifications? For starters, it would force us to cover our furniture in plastic. Is that what you really want?

You look like (pick one):

Morgan Fairchild in a very special Lifetime movie-of-the-week called "Not Without My Mom-jeans," the heart warming story of a woman who goes into mourning when The Gap discontinues their line of high-waisted acid wash stretch pants
The winning design from that episode of Project Runway where Heidi Klum gives the designers one day to stitch together a wardrobe for the soon-to-hit-the-toy-stores Bi-Polar Barbie
A publicity still from "I Was an Incontinent Space Widow," a daring independent film directed by Darren Aronofsky and starring Charlize Theron, which swept the awards at Sundance
That long lost episode of Love Boat, wherein cruise director Julie McCoy spikes the punch with ecstasy causing Charo to hurl herself overboard, whereupon her distraught lesbian lover Donna Mills disrupts a shuffleboard tournament with her shocking announcement that her girdle's been possessed by beelzebub.
Bloody hell.